It took 25 years for democratic SA to be established, journey through incredible tumults, lose its way, fall into the wrong hands and rebel against itself.
Now the reset button has been hit.
A new government is in place, at national level and in the provinces, carrying the hope of a less dystopian future.
The inauguration of President Cyril Ramaphosa last weekend was symbolic of a republic standing strong and powerful, evoking national pride and trying to reclaim its place in the world.
But it takes more than a newly elected, respected president raising his right hand, pledging to be faithful to the constitution and the people of SA, to undo the damage of a nation that constantly turns on itself.
The capture of the state represented the most crass form of exploitation of the citizenry by the political elite and those who bought them. The project succeeded in the context of erosion of nationhood, manipulation of flaws in the social fabric and the total breakdown of institutions that uphold the state and rule of law.
What then was the point in time when our republic came undone?
Perhaps it was the images of bedraggled Gupta wedding guests from India strolling through Waterkloof Air Force Base, and then being ushered into a VIP convoy that whisked them to Sun City.
The fact that the commercial plane carrying foreign nationals with no security clearance was able to land at a military facility on April 30 2013 due to the Guptas' political connections was a sickening assault on our sovereignty.
Nobody paid the price for it.
The air base was the location of another painful saga a month earlier that also raised questions about our sovereignty.
The remains of 13 South African soldiers killed in fighting in the Central African Republic arrived back home to their shocked and grieving families. A mass memorial service was held at the base, where the troops' heroism was lauded.
More than 200 soldiers had been in the CAR to train their counterparts and protect assets. Their commander-in-chief at the time, former president Jacob Zuma, did not explain why they had to engage in armed combat in a foreign land.
South Africans fought and died in a war that was not ours.
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The moment of destruction of our self-worth could, however, have been a few months before that.
In August 2012, members of the South African Police Service fired live ammunition at their fellow citizens, striking mineworkers in Marikana in the North West.
Video footage went around the world of rock-drill operators falling to the dry earth as the bullets ripped into their bodies. There were haunting images of the armed policemen standing watch over those they killed.
What ensued over the next few days was the story of a nation that reviled itself.
The police, representing state power and financial interests, lied, repeatedly, about the dead, none of whom could speak for themselves.
The people of Marikana thirsted for justice. Years rolled by, their lot remained unchanged, and justice and dignity never came.
They are among millions of people of a lesser god who are only heard when they inconvenience the upper classes with their protests or their spilt blood.
But maybe the breaking point was even earlier, when self-hate assailed our humanity towards our fellow Africans.
In 2008, a wave of xenophobic attacks against migrants led to 67 people being killed. The most horrific images were of Mozambican national Ernesto Alfabeto Nhamuave, who was beaten, stabbed and set alight at the Ramaphosa informal settlement on the East Rand.
The picture of Nhamuave kneeling shell-shocked as the flames consumed him made us confront our collective shame and hatefulness.
However, in June 2010, we presented another incarnation of ourselves to the world.
During the Fifa World Cup, the spectacular photo-shopped avatar was on display, multicoloured and vivacious, effusing Mandela-ism to anyone who would have it.
In the true version of our country, a town remains gripped by racial tension after a black teenage boy is killed by white men for stealing a sunflower on a farm. Daily, thousands more people sink into hopelessness because they know they will never find jobs. And women and children have to live with an abnormal fear of being hurt by strangers and loved ones.
As people filed through security checkpoints into Loftus Versfeld stadium last Saturday, they were handed stick flags to wave during the day's proceedings. It is the flag that Caster Semenya drapes around her shoulders as she strides and salutes triumphantly at the end of her races.
It is emblazoned on the banner behind the witnesses as they testify about the looting and denigration of the state at the Zondo commission.
It was carried to the top of Mount Everest by Saray Khumalo and was on Mark Shuttleworth's arm when he flew into space.
It adorns the kit of the Gift of the Givers international rescue teams and is on the backs of the Proteas at the ICC Cricket World Cup.
It hung limply behind Zuma the night he reluctantly announced his resignation as president.
It hugged Nelson Mandela's casket until moments before he descended away from us into the earth.
In the footage of Ramaphosa taking the presidential oath last Saturday, the flag in the foreground intersects the screen between him and chief justice Mogoeng Mogoeng.
The nation needed a pick-me-up and the armed forces brought the goods
It is always there, a silent witness to our highest and lowest moments.
In a country where nothing works well, and everyone revels in saying so, the splendour of the republic was on full display at the inauguration.
In a departure from the tradition of holding the inauguration at the Union Buildings, the ceremony was held for the first time in a stadium, where the VIPs and ordinary folk could witness the spectacle together.
It was a masterful strategy to showcase the service battalions on the ground and the skill of the South African Air Force in a breathtaking flypast. The nation needed a pick-me-up and the armed forces brought the goods.
The resumption of rolling power blackouts from late last year was as a result of the gross mismanagement of Eskom and the legacy of state capture. The instability of the electricity supply worsened the country's economic prospects and led to a renewed pessimism about the future.
Spates of stage 4 load-shedding earlier this year led to warnings that the water supply in municipalities could also be in danger and that small businesses would be unable to withstand prolonged power cuts.
The way ahead looked bleak with knock-on effects on work productivity, traffic, schooling, health-care facilities and crime levels.
But political intervention pulled us from the brink, the electricity remained stable during the election period, and suddenly all was well again. This is the South African condition: the constant cycle of despair and hope.
Amid criticism that the inauguration ceremony was wasteful expenditure and too audacious came an explosion of national pride.
South Africans never really see their armed forces so the showcase of the presidential guard, army, navy, air force, military health services and paratroopers evoked much excitement.
The tour de force was the air display, carried out with precision and skill that were applauded by aviation watchers across the world.
The show-stopper was the flypast in tandem by two of the biggest aircraft in the South African Airways fleet, the Airbus A340-600, accompanied by six Silver Falcons.
And if that did not bring on enough goose bumps, the announcement that SA's first black woman fighter pilot, Maj Mandisa Mfeka, was flying one of the five Hawk Mk 120 aircraft sealed a moment of immense national pride.
SA's international image has taken a beating in recent years. From the romance of the Mandela years to the bold ambitions of Africa's rebirth under Thabo Mbeki, we have lost authority and respect by siding with the skunks and surrendering our commitment to human rights.
On Africa Day, in the presence of dozens of African heads of state and international diplomats, Mandela's favoured son took his oath and pledged solidarity and commitment to Africa's development agenda.
"We are profoundly grateful to you for choosing to celebrate Africa Day among us, giving further poignancy to SA's transformation from a pariah state to a full and valued member of the family of African nations," Ramaphosa said.
He acknowledged that the nation had been deeply divided and damaged:
"Despite our differences, despite a past of conflict and division and bitterness, despite the fierce political contestation among 48 political parties in recent months, we share the same hopes and fears, the same anxieties and aspirations."
The new president also found the words to soothe a weary nation.
"This is a defining moment for our young nation. Today is the choice of history ... Having taken the oath of office I am saying yes, South Africa, Thuma Mina. And I pledge here today that I will serve you, I will work with you, side by side, to build the South Africa, that we all want and deserve."
It was what the country needed to hear, even though gloom is a safer bet than hope.
Ours is an impossible story. It began 25 years ago with the triumph over a system that forced us to hate ourselves and each other.
We are and always will be a deeply damaged people.
On our journey, our humanity and values were eroded. We lost our national pride.
Now begins a new era.
Broken but not conquered, we must find our way.
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